Blood Stained Fangs
Candles, oozing with wax, flickering menacing shapes and shadows onto the rotting grey walls. The remnants of old stained glassed windows broken years ago by muggle teenagers, allowed a ray of moonlight to flicker over the dripping grey hair of Fenir Greyback. A drop of sweat and blood, hit the cold stone floor with a bang. Fenir, grasped his wounded arm with a howl and stared up into the menacing eyes, of a now fellow Werewolf.
Suddenly, shrieking with pain! Bellowing out to the night. Desperate! A surge of power, electrified through his veins. Fenir screamed! His wounded arm jumped with pain. He watched helplessly, feeling his jaw lengthen, his spine stretch. Fur everywhere. He held out his hands before him, pleading with unseen men and women to have mercy. He wanted to die; he wanted this pain to end. While the other Werewolf watched with pleasure. Licking his lips with pleasure, the taste on blood on his tongue. This was regular evening entertainment, once a month, he was given the pleasure of the chase, the pounce. And the kill! But first he would watch this man suffer, watch him become one of them and when the time was right …
Twitching, flailing on the ground. Fenir reached to the ground. He grasped his wand with all the strength he could muster. His muscles ached; he was being tortured before his very eyes. And in a few seconds he would change forever. But before he did…
The werewolf, enjoying himself so much didn't see the wand rise into the air. He didn't hear the flick of the wand over the shrieks of pain from this man. He didn't even see to bolt of green light slash through the air. But he felt his legs leave the floor in an instant, he watched as the world seemed to spin around. The Werewolf was dead before it hit the floor.
"That was the first time I ever killed", Fenir admitted, then placed a dusty mug to his lips and drained it of the bubbling liquid it contained. "Do I regret it no, if anything… I enjoyed it!" He slammed the mug onto the counter and was pleased to hear the faint tinkle of glass breaking. The hooded bar tender, apparently didn't notice or was too afraid to approach.
"Y-you enjoyed it" Fenir's companion remarked, twitching slightly.
"I enjoyed it so much my dear friend, I bit someone that same night." Fenir smirked while watching the horrified reaction on this man's face.
This man before him couldn't have looked more out of place, he was in his late forties, with grey matter hair which he had obviously attempted to neaten with a comb, and shabby robes which had been patched up numerous times. In his right hand he clasped a simarly dusty mug, but in the other, Fenir noticed he held-
"A wand!" Fenir exclaimed, jumping to him feet and pouncing on the man before him. He grabbed the man by the collar and forced him onto the wooden floor. He ignored the faint whimpering and continued:
"You filthy wizard, your no werewolf," he spat each syllable with great effort. The more he could intimidate this man the better. "Why did you come to this place ? Why-why-why !
Your no Death Eater, no half decent Werewolf who'll pledge his allegiance to the Dark Lord… would ever-"
"Please, have mercy…"
"MERCY! Do you think I even know what that means? You've obviously tried to live alongside wizard kind. Combed hair, patched up robes ? Your only here because you weren't good enough! Your societies reject aren't you ?"
"No-NO, The Dark Lord always has been and always will be to whom with I belong."
"Let me tell you about the night I was bitten. I was in so much pain I wanted to die, but then I was given the satisfaction of murder. Do you know why I am the most feared Werewolf's of all time; do you know why I do not suffer now under the full moon? The pleasure of the bite, keeps me alive…"